In Service of Death (DCI Logan Crime Thrillers Book 17) by JD Kirk

Author:JD Kirk [Kirk, JD]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zertex Crime
Published: 2023-07-24T23:00:00+00:00

Ben almost bumped straight into her on his way out of the briefing room. She stood in the corridor, dolled up in a navy blue coat that tied at the waist, and clutching a matching handbag in a way that suggested she could do some serious damage with it, and very well might be about to.

“Moira!” he yelped, warily eyeing the handbag. “There you are. I was just coming to phone you.”

Moira was scowling. This was not anything new, of course, but there was a depth and richness to this particular scowl that set it apart from her standard everyday expression.

She waited until the last few uniformed officers had hurried past before replying.

“Were you? Were you really?”

“Eh, aye. Aye. I just… Sorry. I know we were meant to be meeting, but…” Ben glanced down at the paperwork in his hands, like he might find the perfect words written there. “Something’s happened. To Tyler.”

“I know. I heard,” Moira replied. “Jennifer on the front desk couldn’t wait to tell me all about it.”

“Oh!” said Ben, sensing that there may be a way out of this conversation that didn’t involve too much suffering on his part. “So, you understand, then.”

“Understand?” Moira parroted, her scowl plumbing all new depths of distaste. “Understand that you couldn’t take ten seconds to call me to let me know? Understand that you left me sitting there for almost an hour, left me feeling humiliated in front of all those people? Do you have any idea what a bloody idiot I felt like? Do you have any idea at all?”

“Moira, I’m sorry, I just—”

She wasn’t ready to let him explain himself, though. She wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. “And worse than that, worst of all, in fact, you didn’t think to tell me that one of our own is in trouble. That, I’ll never forgive you for. Never.”

He watched as she unbuttoned her coat, hung it over her arm, then straightened her back like she was standing to attention. The look of contempt on her face didn’t budge an inch.

“If you need me, Detective Inspector, I’ll be in the office until such times as we find that young lad of yours,” Moira said. “After that, I think it’d be in everyone’s best interests if we don’t talk to one another again.”

Clutching her bag, she turned and walked off.

Ben called after her, but she didn’t turn back, and as the door at the far end creaked closed behind her, the corridor was plunged into silence.

Though only temporarily.

“What the hell was that about?” asked Logan, appearing from the briefing room through the door at the DI’s back.

Mantits was yet to reappear with a shirt or a pair of trousers in his size, and his coat and bare legs combo made him look like a flasher just waiting to expose himself to some unsuspecting passerby.

“Lover’s tiff?”

Ben kept watching the door, as if expecting Moira to come walking back through it.

“Something like that,” he said.

“Good bloody riddance, if you ask me,” Logan told him.

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